It Starts Again
by BloodAndDiamonds
Summary: A dark brotherhood assassin, pursued by her guild for refusing to complete a contract. The father of the current Emperor, pursued for failing to capture the assassin, All the while, a new threat sweeps Tamriel. Sequel to The Mortal Of Moonshadow
1. A fresh start

**A/N: **And here we go! The sequel to The Mortal Of Moonshadow. If you haven't read the previous story, then you might just get away with reading just this. Thanks to all who reviewed on my last story, and I hope you enjoy this one!

* * *

**Prologue**

_Azura had eventually sent me to Cyrodiil, after the low, hollow emptiness inside me eventually took over. I turned into a mess, giving one word answers and no longer caring about my health. Had I not been daedric, then I would have surely died from being malnourished and dehydrated._

_Finally, Azura sent me back. Of course, I had thought I was going there for the first time. Unknown to me, my dead husband was also sent back by the Gods. Was it to stop me? Even now I do not know. All I know is, I was never told anything until I remembered it._

_Thank the gods I never killed my husband on sight._

* * *

The paper, cream in color and supporting the black hand seal, was slammed onto the table in front of her. Her eyes flittered upwards, a sense of boredom reflected in her dark blue orbs. Vicente, who was extremely irritated with her, pushed it towards her open palm.

"Lauraine, contract. Take it, and get yourself some action. You've been deadbeat for_ weeks_."

"Thanks Vi, good to see you're supportive"

Vicente glared, his irritation almost hitting its peak. He had known Lauraine for a long time. She had been empress of Cyrodiil at one point, and he had been saddened at the news of her death. Twenty-five years later (five years after the death of her husband), the woman walked into the sanctuary accompanied by the speaker, younger and happier than the last time he saw her. Strange, he thought, that she had no memory of Tamriel.

Constantly insisting that she came from High Rock, she confused him in the fact that she couldn't even remember him. And that was irritating him. He watched as she slowly read the document, closing her book slowly.

"Emperor of Cyrodiil? Emperor Corbyn?! Who assigned this?" Staring up in shock at Vicente, Lauraines eyes reflected fear. A small, smug smile flittered across Vicentes face, her fear and hesitation making him smile. She was not as invincible as she once was.

"I'm not sure. Teresa wouldn't give me the details. Look, you have to get him whilst he is on the escape route out of the Palace. Otherwise, you'll lose him."

"When is he enroute to the escape passage?"

"In about half an hour. Hurry." Vicente smiled lightly at her speed. She was out of the door in seconds, her cloak thrown over her body in record time.

* * *

Martin stared up at Marcielle, a frown flitting across his face. His bright blue eyes flickered uncertainly, a foggy haze clouding his mind.

"Do you understand what you must do?"

"Yes Ma'am. But may I ask, what do I need to look like a member of the Morag Tong?"

"Because I said you do. Look, just do your job." Marcielle pulled his hood tightly down over his face, before shoving him out the door to her home.

Walking over the grassy hills, Martin reflected on his life. At twenty two years old, he had been working for Marcielle for five years, after he had been found with no memory in the middle of Skingrad. He had a surprising knack of grasping difficult things very quickly, and so Marcielle had hired him to do under cover work for her. And now, her latest orders were beyond idiotic.

He had been ordered to follow a trained assassin through the depths of the Imperial sewers, to make sure she didn't kill her target. The Emperor. If he failed, and the emperor was killed... Well... He'd be in trouble.

* * *

The assassin leaped through the darkness, attacking the Morag Tong agent with ruthless efficiency. Daggers screeched against each other, fighting back in order to win. A tiny, small break of sweat was lining Martins forehead; He never expected the assassin to be so good. Having been ordered to assassinate Emperor Corbyn Septim, aged fourty-five and escaping with his sons and daughters, she had ran into them in the Imperial substructure. Martin had been confused as to why she had suddenly turned around and gave chase after her, as she had been unable to lay a finger on them. She had let her target escape, and ran straight into him. And now the fight was on.

The man, she had assumed he was a man due to his fighting skills and build, wore a hood similar to her own. His face shrouded by the darkness it provided. Jumping backwards, she landed high on a ledge, her high acrobatic skill proving handy. Taking a bow and arrow from her robe, she nocked the arrow, aiming for Martin. He was turning around repeatedly, attempting to see her in the darkness. Cutting through the air with a shocking speed, the arrow flew towards Martin, stabbing straight through to his leg and forcing a howl of pain to escape his lips. Jumping down, she sent a strong hook punch to his jaw, causing him to sway uneasily.

Tying his hands together behind his back, she forced him down onto the cold, concrete floor.

"Now, I'm going to remove your hood shortly, and then you are going to tell me why you are following me. And when you have done that, I am going to kill you."

Emotionless, Lauraines long, thick curls poked out from under her hood, completely cascading down her back in thick ringlets once she removed said hood. Her pale face looked deadly in the blue light that emitted from the walls, her blue eyes utterly empty. A small gasp escaped Martins mouth, a similar one escaping hers as she slowly pulled back his hood. Bright blue eyes stared back; dark straight hair contrasting against every other pale object in the white room. Slowly, painfully, the memories that Azura had hidden away returned to Lauraine, only now in her new life. Martins own eyes reflected the same look of shock and disbelief, his own memories returning in a quicker flash. Locking eyes, the words left her mouth in surprise.

"Gods blood..." Martin stared over at her, noting how she hadn't changed one bit in the decades that had passed. Her face was still structured, high cheekbones, bright eyes and plump lips. Her hair was still its bright blonde, falling in thick curls at the front, and straight towards the back.

Lauraine analyzed Martin in the same way, his bright blue eyes still taking her breath away like a kick to the stomach. Slowly, very slowly, she undid the ties on his wrists, murmuring a spell under her breath. When the ties were gone, Martin swiftly stood up, ignoring the shooting pains in his leg.

"Lauraine..." Hesitantly, he reached out to touch her cheek, his eyes staring into hers. She knew he couldn't believe it, believe she was here. Because she was feeling the same. A dull pain was still coursing through her body, the pain of leaving him the second time to go back to Moonshadow affecting her entire body with shaking aches.

It still felt like her heart was being ripped out, it's arteries being snapped and burned in lava. His hand moved from her cheek to her wrist, pulling her against him tightly. Burrowing herself into his chest, her eyes kept flickering to the wall a fair way behind him as she waited for her spell to take action. The wall was slowly turning florescent pink, a soft glow radiating from the concrete blocks.

Lauraine winced slightly as Martin moved in to kiss her, her final moments of her previous life forcing their way to the front of her mind. Pulling back, she resisted the urge to laugh as he lunged forward into mid air. Pulling herself out of his grip, she stepped behind him and stared towards the wall.

"I forgave you in the past life, but who said I forgave you in this one?"

Looking back over her shoulder, she grinned cheekily before she sprinted towards the -now bright pink- wall. Martin stared, wondering if she wanted to run face first into a wall of concrete. But that never happened.

Lauraine skidded when she neared the wall, attempting to get her speed perfect. Instead of hitting the wall as Martin predicted, Lauraine skidded straight through it, wisps of smoke flowing through the room before the Pink archway disappeared in a bright white flash. The concrete stone returned to its normal color, Martin's chest thudding painfully. Had her hood not still laid on the floor alone, he would have never believed she was there. Her grin flashed across his mind, the playfulness reflected in her eyes causing him to feel lighter than normal.

The chase was on.


	2. Confrontation

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed, and thanks to my Beta, TimexHasxGone! Try to guess who Lauraine and Azura are talking about at the end, and find the Shakespeare reference! Also, The events that happen in the Oblivion book :Azura and the box, I am bringing forward to happening during this story :)

* * *

Lauraine stumbled forwards, loosing her footing and collapsing ungraciously on the floor at the feet of Azura. The portal closed loudly behind her the exact moment that Lauraine collided with the floor.

"Ow, I have _got _to learn how to come out of there properly." Standing up, Lauraine dusted herself off, only to be thrown back by the look of rage on Azura's face.

Her pale face, normally tinted pink from the moons colour, was bright red, anger flushing her cheeks. Teeth gritting, Azura's jaw was clenched, her left eye twitching every few seconds. Eyes blazing in fury, Lauraine was certain that the bloodshot irises were on the verge of popping out. Azura looked positively _murderous. _

_  
_"What happened to you?"

"Shut up, child."

Lauraine raised an eyebrow, Azura's snappy tone, and her own anger, fuelling her onwards.

"Who shoved the stick up your backside this time?" Lauraines smirk left her lips the second Azura's murderous gaze was cast towards her.

"How _dare _you speak to me like that! How dare you!" A well aimed hand was flung through the air towards Lauraines cheek, however, her reflexes enabled her to dodge it quite quickly.

"How dare I? I'll tell you how I dare..." Azura glared towards her, retracting her hand and watching as Lauraine stood up from the floor. Pacing slowly, Lauraine stared over at one of the Palace guards, noting how many were standing around.

"Get on with it, child."

"Why in the name of Akatosh, did you _lie?!_ Why did you tell me I wasn't going to be sent to Tamriel, when I had lived a life there?! You made me _forget _about my husband! And didn't even tell me about anything! Why?!"

Freezing on the spot, Azura slowly locked eyes with Lauraine, a sincere look of guilt washing over her delicate face. After a short, tedious awkward silence, Azura started to speak.

"My child, had you _seen _what I had seen when you came back, had you witnessed how much pain you were in, you will understand. You could not bear to open your eyes and face a world where you could not see his face. You were adamant to never open them again, as he would therefore still be with you. Your body was convulsing, twitching erratically and shaking terribly. It was the only way to help you."

"But why didn't you tell me? You're not understanding what I'm saying. I do not care _why _you did it, I care about _why _you didn't tell me!"

Fuming, Lauraine immaturely kicked a large box in the middle of the hall, stubbing her toe and cursing loudly.

"I did not have the chance! You requested to be sent to Tamriel days after you came back! And for goodness sake, _stop cursing!" _Snapping, Azura stared over at Lauraine, knowing the answer was wrong. She still sat dominantly on the throne, her only concern being that of her 'daughters' hatred being cast upon her.

"I came here every two days! I still do! All it takes is a spell, and I'm here! And Uriels ghost, _who put that bloody box there?!" _

"Glad you mention the box, actually."

"You're drifting from the subject..."

"I do not care. I am more concerned about a little 'situation'. You see the box you have so graciously just met?" Azura sent a glare towards it, making Lauraine assume it had done some personal harm to the Prince.

"Evidently, it's not the nicest box in the world."

"True. A few minutes before you arrived, a Dwemer by the name of Nchylbar arrived in the gardens outside the palace accompanied by a priest and a few scholars. The priest explained to me that the scientist only wished for me to demonstrate my knowledge. I was to explain what was in the box he was carrying. The same box you just kicked. I assume you can see the small hole in the bottom of the box?"

"Yes, I see it Azura. I am confused as to wonder why the box has angered you so. What did the scientist do?" Lauraine glanced at the box, noting that the hole itself had a latch attatched to it, enabling the holder to place objects in the box secretly by placing their hand underneath the wood.

"I growled towards the scientist, daring him to fool me. He evidently did _not _realize who he was dealing with. I told him that their was a red-petalled flower in the box. He did not smile, nor did he frown. I should have see it sooner. Using that hole, he took out the flower, and revealed to everyone that it was empty. He had assumed I would realize the trick."

"I'm guessing you didn't..."

"Obviously..."

"And now you want me to go back to Tamriel, and kill this man?" Lauraine let a bored expression waver onto her face. As normal, when one would piss Azura off, one would _not _be alive twenty-four hours later. That was the rule, and there was never any exceptions. Except Lauraine.

"Precisely. I will see you again soon, my child."

Rolling her eyes, Lauraine held her arm out, muttering a spell under her breath quietly. Turning bright pink, the dark wooden door that served as the entrance to the palace turned clear, a white mist surrounding it. The pink archways shot up, twisting around the woodwork and completing the portal to Tamriel.

Taking a red-petalled flower from Azura's outstretched hand, Lauraine ran at full speed from the throne to the portal. Skidding through it -and careful not to run into any of the Moonguards-, she landed with a 'thump' in the middle of the Dwemer Nchylbar's attic.

* * *

Martin stepped up towards the woman, his footfalls so quiet that not even she could hear him. Controlling his breathing, he slowly sat himself down on the snow next to her, letting his eyes drift over to her sun-kissed hair. It shimmered in the dim sun, draped over her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes, the old dark blue and still capivating were fixed on the gravestone in front of her. Her sword lay next to the concrete slab, a aura of sadness and grief radiating from her.

"You know, I remember it all now. The lights, the parties, the gowns. All of it. Our waltz, perfected and then ruined from a short dance in the rain. My fathers warnings, my daughters shame. My time in the temple, and my time in Kvatch. Even our wedding to my funeral." Her voice startled Martin, as he was convinced she was unaware of his presence. "You should practice slowing down your heavy breathing. You were not doing it as effectively as you should. Why are you here?" Eyes still fixed on the gravestone, Lauraine made no move to look towards Martin, only pricking her ears as to hear his reply.

"I needed to see you again, to know that the events in the sanctum were real. H-how did you get away so quickly?"

"I am tied to Azura tighter and stronger than I once was. She now has the power to pull me from anywhere I stand and make me appear right in front of her. I am able to procure a portal anywhere I like, to be able to go back and forth from Tamriel and Moonshadow. I am... skilled in more arts of magicka than I used to be. It's... strange."

Finally, her eyes flickered away from the gravestone, her sword sheathed and her lithe body picked itself up from the ground. Standing over him, Lauraine locked eyes with him, letting him know he could ask another question.

"Why did you rejoin the Dark Brotherhood?"

"It was not my choice. I did not remember ever being in the Brotherhood, but when I accidentally killed a man in anger, I was approached by a woman named Teresa. She sent me there, and I was confronted by two vampires who assured me that they knew me, and would help me. Of course, I thought I had never left Moonshadow, so I had no idea what they were talking about. Those two vampires, are now the only members of the Brotherhood who do not wish me dead at this moment in time." A bout of fear flashed behind her eyes, doubt seeping in through her solid walls.

"What? Why?!"

"I did not complete my contract..."

"Oh, you fail a contract, so they attempt to kill you? That must be one big happy family!" Throwing his hands up in the air, Martin let his sarcastic tone lace his voice. Lauraine didn't seem fazed, much to his dissapointment.

"That is not why I am hunted. It is because I _refused _to carry it out. Tenet number three: Never disobey or refuse to carry out an order from a Dark Brotherhood Superior. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. I disobeyed my orders. I refused to kill, or attempt to kill, my target."

Shaking her head, Lauraine looked upwards towards the sky, taking note of the grey coloured clouds.

"So you are on the run?"

"Just like you."

"H-how did you know?!"

"I was quizzed by a woman when I entered the city yesterday. She asked me if I had seen a man of your description. I told her yes, but I would need to know why she wanted to know before I told her. You failed to kill me and take back my body to Marcielle. I told her I had seen you in Skingrad."

Martin fell backwards onto the snow, willing to hurt himself dearly for his stupidity. He had assumed Marcielle would not go looking for him in the City, only searching Cheydinhal for his sorry ass, before giving up. It appeared he was severely wrong.

"Hey! Hey you!" The voice, gruff and deep, was aimed for the two of them. Yanking Martin up from the floor, Lauraine passed him a sword and unsheathed her Ebony Katana. Standing back to back, they both stared at the men who blocked both exits to the graveyard. Whistling past her face, the cold wind chilled her body, her blood running cold.

"Okay... Are they here for me, or you?" Voice iron clad and still, the question hit his ears through the blowing wind.

"I think... The ones in blue are here for me..."

"And the black ones for me. Typical. I get the bastards with the claymores and katanas. And you get the daggers."

Running forwards, Lauraine attacked the group of three assassins, her katana being blocked everytime by the thick metal of their claymores. Sweat lined her forehead, her arms aching from the force of her blows. Finally, after minutes of attacking with no results, she saw a flaw in one of the assassins movements. His body, every so often, would move slightly to the left, leaving him in a side position.

Using this to an advantage, she slipped under their shields, plunging her Katana into the exposed flesh. Blood spattered her face as she ran the Katana up his body, before twisting it sharply under his ribcage. Using his body as a stand, Lauraine jumped up quickly, stepping on his head and lodging her Katana into the next assassins body, raking it up through his skull and down his back. Quickly, in less than a second, the Katana had moved, blocking another attack from the final assassin before it was dragged across his throat. Wincing as the cut tendons burst, Lauraine watched as the blood sprayed out violently, staining the once white snow to a sickening pink colour.

"I don't get one hit in ten minutes, and then I kill them all in six seconds. Typical." Turning, she wandered her eyes over to Martins fight, seeing that he was still fighting with a final assassin. One lay on the floor in agony, his body twisting and convulsing every few seconds. Deciding to put him out of his misery, she brought her Katana down on his neck, beheading him in seconds.

Martin finished off his fight with the final assassin, hundreds of tiny cuts littering his arms and face, with one large gash across his stomach, which was flowing out blood.

"Bloody hell Martin! How did you get all those cuts?"

"Dagger hilts. I need to get to a healer before they get infected."

"There should be one in the Temple. We'll have to show our faces."

"Are you insane?! Our son is in that temple! Can you imagine his face when in walk his dead parents?!"

"Yes, now move!"

* * *

Lauraine dragged Martin up the rest of the mountain, ignoring his whining and chuntering. As she reached the doors to Cloud Ruler Temple, she vaguely remembered all the events that had happened here. Having being let in because of Martins injuries, Lauraine was guided towards the main hall. Coming face to face with Corbyn.

The man had stared in shock at her, his knees buckling and forcing him down onto one of the chairs. After all, it wasn't everyday that the boy meets his dead mother.

"H-how? You're dead!"

"Well, your mother is dead. I'm technically not your mother, son. I'm the 'reincarnation', if that is how you wish to put it."

"This is so strange. My mother died twenty five years ago. And yet, here you stand, younger than me, yet still the same face and eyes."

Corbyn shook his head, an odd feeling of loneliness washing over him. His children both hid behind one of the pillars, invisible to all but Lauraine.

"Why are you here, Corbyn? Should you not be in the Palace?" Lauraine paced the room, curiosity sinking into her brain and willing her to stay.

"There is a danger. It lies in the distance, waiting to strike. Like a lion, waiting to pounce upon its prey. It threatens Tamriel, yet we can do nothing to stop it."

Lauraine felt the ground shake lightly, closing her eyes tightly as Azura's past words echoing inside her head.

_The lion refuses to roar until the moment it perfect. The wolf refuses to stare towards the moon, his master forcing him to stay put until he says otherwise. The dead will rise, and the owl shall screech in pain. A nightmare will encase the land, it's victims willing death over the pain they will have to endure. The hunt will start, and the chase will end. Only you and he have the power to stop the coming darkness._

Lauraine stared over towards Corbyn in shock, before she was dragged backwards into thin air, her body landing painfully on the marble floor in front of Azura.

Her face paler than usual, and a low growl escaped her lips as she stared towards the table. The table, mahogany in colour and powerfuly enchanted, allowed the viewer to see anything and anyone they wanted to. The vision was set on a large, open field, werewolves and viscious creatures alike all stood stock still, transfixed at something in the distance.

"He has started it. He will not rest until he has become the victor. That is the way in _his_ games. Mehrunes Dagon shall pay for what he has forced his fellow Prince to do..." Azura turned from the table, her words striking fear into Lauraines heart.

Lauraine, paleing a few shades also, groaned lightly, now knowing exactly what the threat upon Tamriel was.

"And now the hungry lion roars, and the wolf behowls the moon; whilst the heavy farmer snores, all with weary task fordone..."

"The danger. It's already started." Azura's voice was shaking, something that either happened when the Prince was scared shitless, or extremely angry. Lauraine looked towards the table once more, wondering how the hell she was supposed to get Tamriel out of this one.


	3. The Ball

**A:N: **Here is the next chapter! Thanks to those who reviewed, and I hope you like this chapter!

* * *

_I am sent with broom before, to sweep the dust behind the door. - Puck AMND._

_

* * *

_

Lauraine looked up at Azura, seeing her own fear reflected in the Princes face.

"How long until they get through?"

"Three days."

Lauraine frowned, allowing the situation to sink in thoroughly.

"So... we have a Daedric prince, an abundance of animals and half breeds, and a dozen murderous warriors. These, versus a few trained legion soldiers and farmers who consider a pumpkin to be the worst thing they've tried to move... Cyrodiil is, in the nicest way possible, screwed. What do we do?" Holding her face in her hands, Lauraine glanced back towards the table, observing the warriors and situation.

"Child, that I do not know. I assume you know the Prince?"

"Hircine... _The wolf behowls the moon_. But why?"

"Hircine has always had a will for power. Power, and a good chase is what fuels him. It seems he has grown bored of the hunting grounds..."  
Lauraine shuddered at Azura's words, remembering herself exactly what the hunting grounds were like. Cold, dark and dangerous.

"I'll try to stop it... But i'll need your help."

"Your clues lie in Tamriel. Search for the followers."

* * *

Lauraine held the mask to her face, allowing her curls to flow down her front and back. Her dress, standing out against every other pink and blue outfit in the room, set off a dark aura to shield herself from the eyes of others. Black and dark red in colour, the corset held tight against her chest, allowing her bust to seem more defined, and her waistline to seem slimmer than average. Flowing out from the skirt down, the lace and embroidery caught the eye of many men, but not the one she had hoped to catch.

"Damnit Hleyroy... Where _are _you?" Softly, she asked the question throughout the ballroom, searching for a unusal tuft of bright blue hair accompanied by red skin. Normally, someone easy to see and simple to catch for Lauraines skills. But when in the midst of a ball, with an entire _family _of blue headed men, accompanied with every other Dunmer and Breton in Cyrodiil, made the task just that little bit harder.  
Dancing and moving swiftly, Lauraine looked through little gaps that were made by dancing couples to attempt to find the Dunmer.  
A tutting noise caught Lauraines ears, as she turned to face three Dunmer women, all dressed in bright pink ball gowns.

"Excuse me?"

"We said nothing" The tallest, with her families bright blue hair and dark red skin, stared down at Lauraine disapprovingly, glaring at the red satin lace that adorned almost half her dress.

"You tutted, and I find that exremel-" Slowly trailing off, Lauraine noted the hair colour, immediately changing her tone. Plastering on a sweet smile, Lauraine curtsied and locked eyes with the elder daughter.

"Lady Hleyroy. An honour to meet you. Although I must ask a simple favour from a stunning lady such as yourself. May you please inform me as to the location of your eldest brother, as I Have a matter to discuss with him which is of the utmost urgency."  
Ellevana Hleyroy glanced down once more at Lauraine, contemplating giving her invalid information.

"No. Lady-" She glanced down at the invitation that was still clapsed in Lauraines hand. -"Bellamont. I shall not give you the details of my brothers whereabouts. One person such as yourself cannot be allowed to my brother unaccompanied."

"Right then. I really didn't wanna have to do this, so don't make me." Pulling back the layers of silk and underskirt fabric, Lauraine pulled her dress up to her knee, revealing a very sharp knife sheathed in a holder. "Okay, so you see it. If you don't tell me where your brother is, then I will pull this knife out, _kill _you, and then I won't hesitate to kill everyone else who witnesses it. Believe me my lady, I have killed far more than a simple ballroom parties guests, so I _won't _think twice about killing you. So, are you going to tell me where he is, or not?" Her smile, still sickened sweet and dangerous, was flashed once more towards Ellevana. A sharp look of fear crossed the woman's face, before she switched to a look of denied defeat.

"_Fine. _Third floor, second door in, then fourth door out. I believe you will find him there."

"Thankyou, my _lady._" Curtsying once more, Lauraine turned on her heel and made her way towards the marble staircase.

* * *

Another ragged gasp escaped Firwal Hleyroy's lips, his mind refusing to let him show weakness. His body, on the other hand, seemed to wish to show the weakness to avoid the pain.

Lauraine rolled her eyes at his weakness, remembering a time when it was her who was strapped to a chair, being beaten and attacked. Of course, she had refused point blank to show pain. Her hood shrouded her face, looking dangerous yet oddly blending in with the themes of her dress. Kneeling down to Firwal's height, she slowly leaned in towards him, her low voice whispering dangerously in his ear.

"Listen up, Firwal. You _will _give me the locations, and the maps. Unless, of course, you want to lose something else..." Her dagger slowly moved down the front of his ripped shirt, the point dangerously digging in the fabric above his groin.

"N-no! I can't! As a woman of shadow, you _must _understand the need to hide these things!"

"Right, that's it..." Lauraine pulled the crescent shaped dagger up into the air, bringing it down harshly and swiftly upon the dunmers chest. Blood sprayed from the wound for a moment, before seizing to a quick flow that stained his trousers and the remains of his top. Shoving a ripped part of the Dunmers blouse inside his mouth to muffle his scream, Lauraine then threw a mixture she had made herself onto the wound. Firwal's screams were loud, but thankfully muffled by the cloth. Lauraine could only imagine the stinging pain coursing throughout his body, as she had once used the mixture on her own wounds.

In seconds, Firwals chest was healed, the only sign that a wound had once been there was the sicken red blood that was dried across his chest.

"Going to answer me now?" Pulling the cloth from his mouth, she waited for an answer.

"No... No amount of pain you put me through will make me tell you..." The cloth was straight back in.

Rolling her eyes once more, Lauraine dabbed a poison on the end of the dagger, before bringing it down sharply into the dunmers kneecap. Ripping it out, she one again stabbed it in the next kneecap, the blood spilling out over her hands.

"Okay, so if I put this mixture on the wound, you will be able to walk and the wound will be gone in seconds. If you don't tell me where the scrolls and maps are, aswell as the location that the portal will open, then I will leave them open. I'm afraid that then, you won't be walking anywhere in this life." Lauraine slowly turned the dagger whilst it still lay in Firwals knee, smiling at the crunching noise it started to make. Firwal screamed bloody murder into the cloth, Lauraines face as impassive as a rock. A rock with sadistic tendencies. Calming down, Firwal panted whilst having the cloth in his mouth, resulting in his skin turning purple. Lauraine yanked the cloth away.

"Fine! Fine! Please stop! _Please!_" Satisfied, Lauraine smudged the mixture over Firwals knee's, taking care to rub the mixture in the wounds as hard as she could.

"Now, the locations?" Lauraine flicked her dagger to the slide, wooshing it through the air and letting the blood fly off, spattering the walls.

"You recall the Lake Arrius Caverns?"

"Yes?" Lauraine seated herself at the edge of a bed, sheathing her dagger.

"In the storage room. There is a box that cannot be seen by the wandering travellor, nor the homicidal cult that inhabited the caverns. The wall is average colour, but a section remains cream coloured. Smash through that part of the wall, and you will find the box, with the scrolls included."

"Impossible. I burned that place to a crisp over fifty years ago..."

"The wall is still intact. I have the job of checking it every two months. A prince can never be too precautious." Firwal explained lightly, wincing as his bones connected back together, the small broken shards of marrow previously on Lauraines dagger fusing with the bones.

"If I find out that you are lying to me... Your family line will never be passed on through you..." Lauraine turned to leave, placing her mask over her face, and pulling her hood off.

"Wait! My lady, please. I must ask a simple favour. Please, let me see your face..."

Freezing in her tracks, Lauraine pondered the request for a moment, before turning on her heel to face Firwal. Removing the glittery mask that hovered over her face, she looked down at the dunmer, holding back a smirk as his features flickered to recognition.

"In the name of all that is holy... Meridia save me... I am, an idiot. My lady, had I known who you were, I would have given you the answers immediately. Can you forgive a young mans foolishness?"

Lauraine rolled her eyes for the third time that evening, pushing the Dunmers head back against his chair.

"I am but a simple worker, who happens to have the grace to live in the Palace of Azura. Do not treat me better than a commoner... I am amazed you recognized me..."

"After your statue appeared next to Azura, in the Jerall Mountains, rumours spread about your origin. Hircine confirmed it to us who you were... To live with her, and to be considered an equal. It's-"

"Yes yes, I do not have the time to listen to you. But keep in mind what I said. I'm sure your father wants his name to be carried on through you, not your obnoxious sisters."

Placing her mask back on, Lauraine high-tailed it out of the room, through the empty upper floors and down to the crowded, drunken ball room.

Quite suspiciously, Lauraine pushed her way through the crowd, a look of satisfaction etched on her face. Her speed was badly paced, however, as she soon collided with an Imperial male halfway to the exit.

"Oh, my Lady, so sorry. I- Lauraine?" Lauraine accepted the hand held out to her, staring at the face of the male, hidden behind his mask.

"Are you _following _me?"

"No! Why?"

"You seem to be everywhere I am. Is it coincidence you find me outside cloud ruler, and then here?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean, aw Holy Akatosh... Coincidence outside the temple, but Corbyn sent me here tonight." Lauraine, who had started to slowly walk away, whipped around in her heels.

"What?! Why?"

"Apparently, Alessia, Armande and Karyssa wish to see you. After all, if their dead mother shows up twenty-five years later, they'll want to see her. You should have seen when Alessia was tending to my wounds... She almost fainted." Lauraine looked up towards Martin, raising an eyebrow to signify she did not find it amusing.

"Does he know about the danger?"

"About Morrowind? Yeah, he does. Angelo is over there, attempting to stop the war..."

"I wasn't talking about _that_ danger."

* * *

"What? Does this mean we have _two _potential wars?" Corbyn paced the room, tugging at the collar of his robes nervously.

"Possibly, your honour. Hircine will strike in two days." Lauraine gave her son the information, watching as he collapsed into a chair.

"Now is not a good time to be emperor. I have my soldiers ready for an attack from morrowind. However, I do _not _have them prepared for an attack from Oblivion itself!"

"I cannot help with Morrowind. I can, however, help with the Oblivion attack."

"Of course you can! You know, it's not as if you've actually been inside those things! No one alive knows what it is like in the realms of Oblivion!" At Corbyns words, Lauraine frowned, whereas Martin snorted. Loudly. And certainly at an inappropriate time. A blade stood by the door uncertainly, a look of worry etched on his face.

"Actually, son, you will find that your mother helped saved Tamriel from an Oblivion attack before. She can do it again." Corbyn looked up at Martins words, his eyes lighting up.

"Really? How?"

"You forget my origins. My home is in _Moonshadow _for Akatosh's sake. I'm going to need my horse, and Martin, you need to come with me."  
Martin looked up, a small look of fear etched on his face. He did not speak up, instead following Lauraine as she curtsied to Corbyn, then left the Temple quickly.

"You don't really think Velina is still alive, do you? That horse must be over fifty years old! It's impossible!"

"Oh Martin, if only you knew the way Velina was enchanted. I have been using her these past few years, including on my visits to High Rock. I assure you, Velina is very much alive."

Whistling loudly, Lauraine and Martin waited for a few moments, before the sound of hooves was heard, and the jet black horse with glowing red eyes trotted up the path to the Temple. Still waiting for her owner, the horse nuzzled Lauraines palm in eagerness.


	4. The Box

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed! Just to clear this up, Velina is _not _Shadowmere. Two completely different horses. Velina was given to Lauraine _before _Uriel Septim died. The Player gets Shadowmere _after _his death. Thanks to my beta TimexHasxGone!

* * *

_'Trusting our intuition often saves us from disaster' - Anne Wilson_

_

* * *

_

The figure, covered in charred Mythic Dawn robes and hood, swayed slightly in the room. The crack of light coming from Martins lantern reflected a few feet into the room, but not far enough to reach the figure. Lauraine could see it. Its arm out, a finger was pointed towards Lauraine, a set of glowing green eyes emitting from beneath the hood. Although Martin could not see it, Lauraine watched as it collapsed to the ground, whispering something only Lauraine could hear.

Horribly loud, Lauraines high pitch shriek resounded throughout the caverns, sending shivers through Martins side as he clutched the scared woman's arms. She was struggling, her arms clawing into the skin on Martins arm. Her body was twitching, her arms making strange movements in disgust. Body facing the exit, several breaks in the dusty ground were visible, a result of her feet attempting to get her to run whilst being restrained.

"L-Lauraine! Calm down! It's dead!"

"No it was not! Those eyes! _It was standing up!"_ Lauraine clung to Martin, a look of pure terror etched upon her face. Martin suddenly felt a pang of fear, knowing that if something scared Lauraine, then it truly was something.

"I saw nothing! Look, it's just a dead body." Martin proved this to her by kicking the charred mess, his lantern now filling up the entire room. The Skelton bones littered the floor, indicating that there was more than one person in the store room when Lauraine set the place ablaze.

"It was _moving. _How could you not see those eyes?!" Her grip, vice like on Martins arm, was starting to hurt Martin, her fear hitting its peak.

"Look, it must have been your imagination. It is dead. If you don't believe me, then look." Martin pulled the dead body up from the floor, all the bones and joints still connected, to his surprise. Pulling the hood back from the skeleton, Martin instantly threw the bones towards the wall, a shiver of disgust going through him.

"Okay, that's not normal... The eyes shouldn't still be in the sockets..." Martin moved closer to Lauraine, keeping his eye on the eyes in the skeleton. Still moistured, and still showing the deep green irises, the eyes seemed alive and fearful.

"Let's just grab the box and go. We'll open it outside, after I've burned this place to a crisp the second time." Pushing her way through the burnt wood and human ashes, Lauraine came across the part of wall she was looking for. Punching it in, her shaking hand went straight through the chalk-like cover, the dust from the small alcove floating up her nostrils. Sneezing violently, she roughly pulled the heavy metal box out, flinging it through the air and accidentally letting it collide with Martins face. The resulting crack was sickening, a look of horror hitting Lauraines face as blood freely poured from his nose. Loudly, Martin fell to the floor most ungraciously.

"Martin! Oh shit, I'm so sorry! You really need to stop standing so close behind me!" Lauraine promptly dropped the heavy metal box, her hands flying up to her mouth as she observed the bloody mess that was now Martins face.

"That bloody hurt!"

"Shut up!" Falling to her knees, Lauraine placed her hands firmly on Martins face, ignoring his struggles and moans of pain. Resisiting the urge to strangle him, she allowed her magicka to drain, placing all of it in a powerful bone healing spell. Cut and wounds could be healed simply, but it takes alot more magicka to mend bones. Feeling slightly light headed, she pretended to not hear his moans as she harshly rubbed the blood from his face, making sure the bones had healed nicely.

"There we go. Wouldn't want to ruin your pretty little face now, would we?" Gripping his wrist, Lauraine roughly yanked him up from the ground, pulling up the box in the process. Thrusting it into his arms, Lauraine cast one fear-filled look towards the robed skeleton on the floor, shuddering at the creepy shivers it sent up her back.

Spinning on her heel to face the closed door, another scream let loose from her lips, causing Martin to jump and drop the box onto his foot. With Martins loud cursing in the background, Lauraine kept her eyes fixed on the body that hung on a hook fixed to the back of the door. Scolding herself for screaming so loudly, Lauraine realized she should have expected the body to be there. After all, she had placed the screaming, dying Mythic Dawn acolyte there to suffer with a ripped stomach, instead of killing him instantly as she did the others.

"Mother of Uriel, Lauraine will you stop screaming! Crap, crap ow!" Martin hopped on one foot, massaging the other with his hand, whilst cursing a few of Sanguines personal favourites.

"Sorry... I'll carry the box." When said box was in her hands, Martin immediatly took a few steps back from Lauraine, his hands removed from his foot and placed over his nose.

* * *

_It will come for you, it will never let you go._

_Shuddering, the words echoed around Lauraines head, as she entered the inn with the strange feeling of being watched. Cloak wrapped tightly around her, she made her way towards the bartender, until her eyes flickered over to a man sat in the corner. Expertly hidden.  
Changing her route, Lauraine scraped a chair across the floor, seating herself down and facing the male._

His jaw, still as defined as it was at thirty years old, had rough stubble coating it, helping in making his face darker and concealed. Eyes that were once a beautiful chocolate brown, now a blood red and pulsating in hunger. His smile, however, was still perfect. Warm and yet chilling, fearful yet welcoming. The absence of fangs showed that he had either just fed, or he had finally mastered control over his vampirism.

"Well well, what a surprise to see you here. I note that every time I see you outside the brotherhood, it is always in this inn. What is this, the seventh time?" Lauraine let her words out, watching as his lips twitched upwards in a amused smile.

"Who's counting? And it's actually the eighth, sister."

"Like you said, who's counting? You seem to like this inn, I note."

"As do you, sister, as do you. I do not, however, see why. The daughter of Roxy, drunk every night and barely able to tell you which room you wish to stay in. Drunks, theives and harlots. Whores and prostitutes sit on bar stools, attempting and failing to seduce the men who have no dignity. This is the last place one would expect a Daedric Princess, and a former empress to be."

"That, my friend, my brother, is the reason I prefer it here. Loud and busy, I would see any who walks through the door, yet be able to escape if need be. Drunks, harlots, prostitutes, theives and whores. All a worthy distraction. And, as you very well know, a place which is _so _busy, one is never disturbed." Lauraines smile mirrorred the assassins own, yet his was slightly less bright. He, after all, was not one to smile in public. Lauraine pushed his hood back, hoping to see if his hair was still the shiny, mezmerizing dark brown that it used to be. When she rejoined the sanctuary in her past life, after the events in the palace, Lauraine had never seen him with his hood off. Whereas when she first joined at the age of seventeen in her past life, his hood was up when he recruited her, but then it spend the rest of her time there down.

Grinning, her smile reached her eyes as she noticed it was exactly the same. Shining in the light of a flickering candle, it was pulled back into the style it always was, and had kept its thick, dark colour.

"What exactly brings you here, brother?"

"We have not spoken in quite some time, and I believe you are in quite a dilemma. Refusing to kill your target, and then having to help your son with an attack on the morrowind border. Sucks to be you, sister." Raising his glass towards her, he took a sip, his soft lips hardly touching the glass.

"And yet, your attitude never fails to amaze me. Your sister is stuck in many dilemmas, and yet you toast her and inform her that 'it sucks to be her'. You haven't changed one bit Lula."

A sharp kick was sent Lauraines way, the table hiding the action, and preventing it from being too hard a blow.

"Refrain from using that pathetic nickname! You kno- What are you doing?" He watched as Lauraine pressed her hand to the wall, watching her look around to make sure none was watching.

"I Have to go now. I hope to see you soon, Lucien. It was nice seeing you again. By the way, you have a little blood on the corner of your mouth. Best to get rid of it, before the barmaid see's it. She has been giving the _eye._ I wonder, if you sleep with her, will she be classed as a necrophilliac?" Another kick was sent towards Lauraine, yet it missed, going through the mist that was now her body.

"What in Sith-"

"Farewell, Lucien." Lauraine had slipped through the pink wall, into the swirling white mist that, amazing, no one had noticed.

* * *

Martin cursed loudly, the few legion soldiers that were behind him glaring at him for using such words. Rolling his eyes at them, Martin looked out of the wooden door slightly, narrowly avoiding a daedric arrow sent his way. It seemed a few worshippers of Hircine did not want him interfering with any plans, and had decided to attempt to kill him. A low, angry roar resounded throughout the carverns, chilling Martins blood and scaring the shit out of the soldiers.

Martin rolled his eyes sarcastically, tilted his head slightly and announced, in a fake tone of happiness and light anger,

"They have a cave troll." Slamming the door shut, Martin drew his sword, aiming it towards the door and standing in fighting stance.

"Um, sir? What should we do? There is no way out besides that door, and I am a bit squeamish at the sight of trolls. It's the green sir..."

"Just kill it... I have no time fo-"

Stopping mid scentence, Martin became aware of the fact that he seemed to be split in two. Numbness crawled up his legs, and around his waist, before he realized that the floor was dragging him in. Dissappearing from the sight of the soldiers, Martin fell through the ceiling of a very_ white_ hallway.

The pillars that adorned each wall were magnificent, letting off a bright white glow, yet allowing the building to seem much older than it probably was. The floors were clean, white and hard concrete. The resulting fall had no doubt injured his tail bone, as the bone in question was revolting to it's apparrent bruising.

"I left you three hours ago Martin Septim, how in the name of Akatosh did you manage to get locked in a room with a cave troll banging on the door?" Lauraines voice, soft and quick, floated to his ears, accompanied by fast footsteps. Turning his head around, Martin saw her coming towards him, her eyes not leaving the crumpled pages of a book.

"Where are we?" Slowly standing up, he was eye level with Lauraine at the moment she passed him, her scent infiltrating his nostrils.

"Follow me. _Now_." Her pace did not slow; Martin found himself having to half-run to keep up with her.

Turning many corners, climbing many staircases, and at one point having Lauraines hand shoved over his mouth, Martin followed her to a large white door. Obviously wooden, yet enchanted to make it fit in with the rest of the castle, Martin could feel the strong magic radiating from it.

"Don't waste time staring at my door. Inside." Her soft hand was placed in the small of his back, pushing him forward into a very large, very neat bedroom. Shining white in colour, the large bed was shoved into one corner of the room, not even taking up quarter of the space. A large glass doorway led to a balcony, yet was hidden by dark purple drapes. Transfixed, Martin simply stared around the room, noting the many drawings that littered the walls.

"Um... Lauraine, I Know we used to married and all, but don't you think it's a bit too early to-"

"Shut up, fool. I did not bring you here for the sole purpose of having sex with you, _idiot._ I brought you here because I have discovered Hircines plan to invade Tamriel." Eyes widening, Martin quickly approached the large desk, eager to find out what Lauraine had discovered.

"Let me see."

"_Hush! Don't be so loud! _The daedra are having a meeting in the floor above, and I'm _sure _Mehrunes Dagon would be _delighted _to see you!" Slapping him hard over the head, Lauraine muffled his cry of pain with her hand, before proceeding to show him the maps and plans.

"He'll open portals at the borders to Morrowind, Elsweyr, Skyrim and the south western end of Valenwood." Drawing squares on the exact locations the portals would open, Lauraine continued in a hushed voice.

"From one portal, werewolves. From another come the Alronacts. They are special warriors made by Hircine to _entertain _those in the Hunting Grounds. From another will come elemented Alronacts, same as before but specilising in certain magics..."

"And from the fourth?"

"A band of all three..." Lauraines face was paler than normal as she gave him the information, knowing that they both knew the possible outcome of the situation.

"When will they open?"

"Knowing Hircine? Most probably all four at once..." Lauraine watched as Martin paled at her answer.

"Attack from all sides, all will flee and... And corner us... No!"

"The Imperial City will fall to all four attacks should we fail to stop it."


	5. Abrupt Arrival Of The Skeleton

**A/N: **Thanks to those who reviewed! Thanks to my Beta, TimexHasxGone, and I hope you like this chapter! :)

* * *

'_The bow too tensely strung is easily broken' - Anonymus_

_

* * *

_

Lauraine thought silently for a moment, her eyes glancing towards Martin every few seconds...

"Oh! My mistake. Hammerfell border, not Valenwood. But i'm guessing from the look on your face that where it appears no longer matters..." Staring back down at the maps, Lauraine pondered on how they were going to solve the problem.

"What are the daedra discussing?" Voice shaking, Martin directed the question towards Lauraine, his voice hushed from fear that the Daedra in question would hear him.

"I'm not sure. I think Azura is trying to get Hircine to think over his plan. Avoid the attack..."

"The daedra never go against each other. She would be banished for attempting to help Mortals..."

"I think you will find that she wouldn't. When they formed thousands of years ago, they ensured that _nothing _could overthrow them. They would need the votes of the other sixteen. Meridia would never agree, neither would Ebonarm... In fact, Ebonarm can hardly be classed as a Daedric Prince, more of a god of war. Azura is attempting to stop the attacks, not because she fears for Tamriel, but because she fears the damage it may do to Hircine and his realms. Azura is never deceitful, but the way my mistress almost always gets what she wants is disturbing..." Shaking her head, Lauraine rolled out some more maps and notes, eagerly skipping through for information.

"So there is a chance that this attack may be stopped?"

"A very, very thin chance. Azura may always get what she wants, but I doubt Hircine would simply let it go, what with the creation of his armies, and an almost _flawless _plan." Tutting loudly, Lauraine started to push certain notes off the side of the wooden desk, creating a large pile or parchment in the middle of the floor.

"We truly are doomed."

"Yes. We a-" Lauraine was cut off abruptly by a loud roar from the floor above. The castle shook violently, Martin unconsciously gripping into Lauraines arm in fright.

"What was-"

"That? It always happens. They discuss, they argue, and then Peryite steps in by transforming and jumping into the middle of them. Many of my paintings and drawing have fallen from my wall as a result." Casting her eyes around her room, Lauraine pointed her finger towards a painting that hung on the furthest wall. As predicted, the painting fell to the floor loudly, causing a loud bang to echo throughout the room.

"That painting... That was our wedding day." Muttering quietly, Martin made his way over to the painting, picking it up delicately in his hands.

"Yes. Although I did not know it was at the time I painted it." Refusing to look up, Lauraine read through the daedric passages on the pages quickly, already knowing the language well enough to not need a book. Martin was staring at all the paintings around her room, noticing, with a pang of jealously, that he was not the only man she had painted.

"You seem to draw these two men alot. They seem very, um, _dark_." Observing them all, Martin noted how one was clearly a vampire, whilst the other seemed to have turned from a attractive young man, to another vampire.

"Those two men are the only people I trusted for the entirety of my past life. And the only two I still trust in this one. In Tamriel, that is." Light anger was entering her voice; whether it was because she was tired of being interrupted from her translating, or because he had hit a nerve, Martin did not know.

"What about me?"

"Need I remind you about the five times I walked in on you with my chamber maid?" Now an angry snarl, Lauraine's dagger made an appearance, being placed onto the desk for easy access.

"You don't trust me?" Lauraines eye twitched.

"No." Venomous this time, Lauraine was refraining from strangling Martin.

"Are you still caught up ab-"

It happened very quickly. The gleaming elven dagger was ripped from the sheath on the table, and flung through the air with such accuracy and speed, Martin didn't see it until it was embedded in his shoulder. The force from the dagger had sent him flying backwards, into the concrete walls behind him. Finding himself hanging a few inches above the floor with the dagger still in his shoulder, Martin felt like his shoulder was being torn. His body wanted him to move down, all his weight pulled him towards the ground, yet the dagger was embedded through his shoulder and into the wall. The pain was unthinkable, and unfortunately, not beyond his senses capabilities. Lauraine was in front of him in seconds, her body a few inches from his own.

"Yes Martin Septim, I am still caught up about it. Because, in case you haven't realized, it takes alot to trust someone who shatters the base trust five times over! Had you caught me with Chancellor Ocato five times, would you still trust me? No, I think you would not! So don't you _dare_ ask me if I'm still caught up about it! Because you know damn well I am! All these years, I have lived in peaceful bliss, never knowing the truth. When I remembered everything, your betrayal emotionally _killed _me!" Shrieking, Lauraines voice had hit an all time high, the pitch and loudness of the sound surely sinking through the walls and catching the ears of the Daedra in the floor above. To make the pain worse, Lauraine slightly twisted the dagger, before mercilessly ripping it from the wall and his shoulder. Sheathing it, Lauraine moved back over to the desk, biting her lip at some of the words on the parchment.

"Lauraine... It's not healing up." Pleading for her to look at him, Martin tried many restoration spells on his shoulder, yet the hole - and the pain- refused to close.

"Of course it's not. I had the dagger poisoned for the next animal I was to ram it into. Unfortunately that animal was you. If you don't fall unconscious in the next ten seconds, then you'll be stuck with an unbearable pain in the shoulder for seven hours."

"My body should be able to fight the poison..." His words were choked out through the unbearable pain he was going through, vision hazing with red dotting the edges. The sentence being said, Martin promptly fell unconscious. Lauraine kicked his limp body, a single word emitting from her lips.

"_Wimp_."

* * *

"Are you _shitting _me?! Impossible! No! It's wrong!" Snatching the map from Martins hand, Lauraine stood upright, glaring down at the map in anger.

"Maybe we just took a wrong turn, it's possible..." Martins voice was weak, his head throbbing and his shoulder rebelling against being moved the slightest.

"No, I assure you we didn't. The hunting rooms may be a very large plane, but this map should be _flawless_." Eyes scanning the map with perceived anger and sharp wit, Lauraine memorized every cut and corner they had turned, before settling dead on in the middle of the map.

"Martin... When we hit the two forks, and I asked you if we either went forward left, forward right, left left, or left right... Which one did you tell me?"

"Forward right. Why?" Martin was looking around the empty room, feeling uneasy. Not being able to shake the feeling that he was being watched, Martin put it down to slight fear from what Lauraine would do should he step out of line. She had already stabbed him once, who's to say she wouldn't do it again?

Martin's fear was well placed. Despite the fact that Lauraine had told them to be _extremely _quiet or 'both our lives will be in danger', the woman started shouting at a high pitch.

"You _idiot_! I outlined the map _perfectly _for you! I had the route drawn out! And yet you _still _led us the wrong way! Incompetent _idiot._" Cursing, Lauraine immediately started to walk off down the narrow passageway they had just entered through, her blonde hair shimmering in the faint light.

"You don't really mean those insults! You're just still pissed about our conversation inside Az-" Abruptly being cut off at a loud whooshing sound, Martin ducked just in time as the dagger flew over his forehead, embedding itself in the wall behind him. "You missed!" Martin pulled the ebony dagger from the wall, about to the throw it to the side when he recognized the scratched hilt and slightly blunt blade. His eyes widened, his mind frazzling as he looked to his empty sheath.

_How on earth? Sneaky woman..._

_  
_"Hurry up! Tamriel doesn't have the next two days to spare as you stare at that dagger! Get a move on!" Lauraines voice rung from somewhere to his left, Yet Martin was annoyed at the pure fact he had to go forward, right, forward and then left to get to her again.

"Is that a mountain lion?!"

"No, it is a werewolf. Clearly you can tell the difference. Colour, snout shape, type of fur, and size." Dragging him deeper into the Hunting grounds, Lauraine started to grow restless.

_The daedra meeting should be over by now. Hircine can surely sense our presence._

_  
_Finally, after half an hour of backtracking and then rerouting, Martin and Lauraine hit their destination, passing many sleeping werewolves in the process. Gasps escaped both their lips, before an angry growl let lose from Lauraines.

"_This _is it? We came all the way here, for a _cloak, a blade _and a _staff?!_ No way!" Kicking the dirt in frustration, Lauraine cursed very loudly around the abyss. They had been led deep into the hunting grounds, part of the planes that were never visited by mortals.

"Um... Lauraine?"

"What?!"

"I _really_ don't think that werewolf should be moving."

"Oh shit, she's awake!" Lauraine looked back at the mahogany werewolf, before spinning on her heel and grabbing the staff.

"Why not use a blade?"

"Because then we'll have to get close to her, and I don't plan on becoming a werewolf anytime soon!" Holding the staff out, Lauraine muttered the spells needing to activate it. Nothing came from the end of the staff, but the werewolf stopped dead in her tracks.

"What happened?"

"He's helping us!" Lauraine's face was a mix of utter delight, as she realized the power of the staff.

"Who?!"

"Hircine! He likes the hunt, but he'll always give the victim a chance of success, no matter how small! That's the rule! The staff controls the wolves! Grab the other stuff" Face lighting up as she watched the werewolf gaze up at her, a small idea flitted across Lauraines mind. Her smile immediately turned quite evil, as she looked from the staff, to the werewolf, and then to Martin.

"Oh no! Don't you dare Lauraine!" Ignoring him, Lauraine cast her eyes to the werewolf, grinning as she bared her teeth towards Martin.

"Lets see how fast you are, with a werewolf on your heels."

* * *

Azura cursed to herself, sending vicious glares towards her unsuspecting guards. Pulling Lauraine and Martin from wherever they were, she watched as a very happy looking Lauraine fell to the floor infront of her, followed by a extremely dishevelled Martin. Holding three objects in her hands, Azura noted the frightened glares Martin kept sending the staff in Lauraines arms.

"You summoned us, my lady?"

"I give you news. Good and bad..."

"What is wrong, my lady?"

"I am afraid that Hircine has decided to double the soldiers he will be sending to Cyrodiil... To five thousand. Two thousand werewolves, two thousand Alronacts, and a thousand elemental Alronacts..." Azura's words shocked Lauraine, the items in her arms clattering loudly to the floor. The sound echoed throughout the castle, bouncing off the walls and allowing fear to sink in.

"And the good news?" Martin spoke up, his voice shaking at the realization of what was coming.

"Hircine will not attack for another week."

Martin turned to Lauraine with a small flicker of hope on his face. Her attention, however, was elsewhere. Shaking, her hands were pointed towards the ceiling, a look of pure fear etched upon her face. Martin stared up at the ceiling, his heart stopping at the appearence of the Mythic Dawn skeleton they encounter in the caverns hours earlier. Now noticing that the eyes were not green, but a glowing blue, Martin watched as said skeleton turned and looked down towards Lauraine. Lauraines next words caused Martins stomach to drop.

"She has come for me."

The skeleton swooped down from the ceiling swiftly, surrounding Lauraine in a mist of sickly green. The Mythic Dawn robes had flowed out and formed a magical type of barrier, preventing him from seeing Lauraine, and not allowing him to get to her. Her high-pitched scream tore through the hall, startling both Martin and Azura.

The Daedric Prince abruptly stood up from her throne, throwing a ball of black light towards the barrier of robes. As the spell was reflected and sent hurling towards a pillar, Azura's pale face lit up in realization. Looking desperatley towards Azura, Martin understood she would do nothing, and moved to cut apart the robes. A small hand wrapped around the fabric on his back, yanking him backwards and forcing him down onto the cold white concrete with a harsh force.

"Do not move... She'll be okay..."

Martin never heard the words come from Azura's lips. The reason being that the robes that encircled the skeleton and Lauraine had stopped moving, the magic force behind them gone. As the robes crumpled to the floor, Martin felt a growing sickness as he realized that both Lauraine -and the skeleton- were gone.


	6. It's Me

**A/N: **Hey! Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter, and thanks to my Beta TimexHasxGone! Forgive me if this chapter is crappy, I'm suffering from writers block :(

* * *

_They always say time changes things, but you have to actually change them yourself - Andy Warhol._

* * *

Folding her hands in her lap neatly, Azura ignored the look of shock and horror that was splashed across Martin Septims face. Choosing to force him down onto the stone floor, rather than let him attempt to help Lauraine, Azura was convinced her idea was a good one. In fact, if the Septim boy was not struggling against the powerful female guard that held him down, Azura would have no problems currently going on.

"My lady! Please, open a portal and let me help her! Lauraine could be in danger, my lady, an-"

"Oh do be quiet! Stop worrying, child, and allow me to inform you of something. Someone is on their way towards Lauraine right now. Sending you back would take too long, as I do not know her exact location. However, I feel someone getting closer to her, so if you don't digest this information and convince yourself that my child is safe, then I shall be forced to order my guards to silence you..."

"You'll kill me?" Martin was immediately taken back. He had always thought Azura to be the kindest and most concerning of all the Daedric Prince's.

"Do not be stupid. My guards have powerful blows; anyone of them could knock you cold in seconds..." Azura motioned to the guard holding him down, who tightened her grip on Martins arm to prove her point.

"Okay, okay. You're certain she will be fine."

"I am always certain, and always correct." Azura leaned forwards slightly on her throne, resting her chin in her palm, which was rested on the arm of said throne. "Now, young Septim... Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself?"

Azura's sweet smile allowed Martin to understand that the question was a hidden order. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Martin cast a glance up to the daedric prince. Her hair was whiter than the walls of the palace they stood in, contrasting with the bright pink skin and hair of her guards, yet blending perfectly with her skin tone. Her eyes, a fierce, deep blue, were the exact same shade of Lauraines, yet her power reflected from the glassy orbs that seemed to stare right through him. Martin -still attempting to swallow the lump that had grown from nowhere- looked away from her locked gaze, swearing that, had he not known Azura had taken Lauraine in at eight years old, the two could have been related. Same skin colour, same eye colour, same aura of power and the exact same tone of voice that pierced any chilling silence that hovered.

"Well, my lady. I uh- I was born the 27th of Heartsfire, 3e 406..."

* * *

Lucien Lachance was, for the most part, extremely confused. His horse, Shadowmere, had been going at an extremely fast pace through Blackwood, before -without any warning- halting abruptly. This resulted in Lucien being thrown from his horse into the closest tree. Groaning as shooting pains ran up his back, Lucien dusted himself off, sending glares towards the horse that was now waiting for him to mount her.

"Stupid horse...Why did you have to do that? Shadow- Where are you going?" The moment Lucien had mounted her, Shadowmere began to turn to the left, trotting quickly through the thick trees.

The sight that greeted him at the stopping of the horse was a most unusual one. Sliding off the side of Shadowmere, he examined the scene before him.

A horse, the exact same colour and height of Shadowmere, was attempting to back herself into a cave, with no such luck. Raising a dark eyebrow at the horse, he took note of the black hand saddle, and with a half smile, knew exactly who the horse was, and why Shadowmere had dragged him to the cave.

"You brought me all the way here, to show me your twin foal. Rare as that is, why should I care?" Shadowmere aimed a back kick towards Lucien's knees, the crack splitting through the air and catching the attention of the other horse. "Oh sweet Sithis, what the hell was that for?"

Cursing rather loudly at Shadowmere, Lucien's eyes wandered back over to the second horse, narrowing at the long burn mark that ran down the horses back leg. Due to his vampirism, Lucien's leg had healed back up quickly, and he moved over to examine the second horse.

"Same markings. Hm, I'm certain I made that mark on Lauraines horse before..." Vaguely aware that the horse was chewing his sleeve in an attempt to distract him whilst slowly pushing him towards the cave door, Lucien finally recognized the horse. "Velina?"

If horses could roll their eyes in annoyance, Lucien was sure that both horses would have done just that. Lucien was just about to ask aloud were Lauraine was, before another shocking realization dawned on him. If Lauraine was nowhere in sight, her horse attempting to back into a cave rather conspicuously, and his own horse had stressed her way through the thickets to reach Velina, then something wasn't right.

* * *

The sight that Lucien Lachance saw before him in the dusty confined sections of the cave both annoyed and angered him. It angered him because he had spent two hours searching the cave, passing this section many times without actually checking it. It annoyed him, because he knew very well Lauraine Bellamont could get out of the grip the strange skeleton figure had her trapped in.

Yet, the woman allowed the skeleton to inflict the pain upon her, allowing it to slowly cut off her air supply and attempt to kill her. Narrowing his eyes towards the skeleton, Lucien unsheathed his dagger quite quickly, taking aim and throwing it swiftly through the air towards the skeleton. The blade, poisoned and extremely sharp, cut through the air wildly, embedding itself through the robes and into the bone of the skeleton.

Lauraine was dropped to the floor, an ear-splitting scream echoing throughout the caverns as Lauraine writhed on the floor. Lucien at first thought that it was the skeleton who was screaming, knowing his dagger had hit the right spot, and that perhaps Lauraine was simply trying to roll away from the thing. However, when the robed skeleton started to slowly drift towards Lucien, he understood that it was Lauraine emitting the scream; Lauraine who was writhing in agony and pain from his dagger. Surprisingly enough, Lucien's dagger was most certainly embedded in the robes of the skeleton, yet it was Lauraine suffering the effects.

"What the hell is going on?!" Yelling seemed the most suitable option, as Lucien pulled his longsword from the inside of his black robes. Quickly, and resulting in a very loud and agonizing cry to stop from Lauraine, Lucien blindly swung the sword and cut the skeletons hand off. Both Lauraine and the robed skeleton screamed, Lauraines pitched much higher and longer than the skeletons.

In one fluid movement, the skeleton ceased all noise, spinning on the spot and disappearing, with the red robes falling to a pile on the floor, the hand disappearing with it.

Lauraine cried in fear, gripping her wrist with a look of utmost terror splashed on her face. Staring at her in stunned confusion, Lucien could only hear her words.

"Oh holy Akatosh! Why did you do that?! How am I supposed to stop all this blood?" In hysterics, Lauraine's voice was climbing octaves, fear lacing her voice as she screamed in terror of the blood that was supposedly covering her wrist. Snapping his head towards her wrist, Lucien frowned when he saw that nothing was there. No blood, no cuts. Just a pale wrist accompanied with a paler hand.

"I don't see anything."

"How can you not see it?! My hand is gone! So much blood!"

"Believe me, Lauraine. If you were bleeding, I'd smell it. Have you been sleeping properly?" The look on her face confirmed his question.

"Look, I think that you've just eaten something dodgy. There is nothing wrong with your wrist or hand- what in Akatosh?!"

* * *

Lauraine was pulled through the portal backwards, landing with a thump in front of a very bored looking Azura, and a very teary Martin.

"Then, I don't even know why, my lady, she was dead. I could do nothing-"

"That's all very nice Master Septim... Lauraine, what in the name of Meridia happened?!" Azura broke her eye contact with Martin to stare over towards Lauraine. Shaking with a new bout of fear, Lauraine pulled Martin to stand beside her as she locked eyes with Azura.

"I was taken to a cave in the middle of Blackwood. There I was found by a member of the Dark Brotherhood. He threw his dagger at the skeletons shoulder, and cut off her hand." Lauraine pulled up the sleeve of her robes, tracing the outline of a scar that appeared out of nowhere along her wrist. Judging by the colour of the scar, she would have had to have her hand cleaved off. Pulling the sleeve up further, Lauraine indicated another scar that rested in the delve of her arm socket.

"I had no wounds with these scars, yet they appeared in the same places that my Brother harmed the skeleton."

"What does this mean?" Martin spoke up, standing up beside Azura's throne in slight confusion.

"My lady, Martin. It means that, and nothing can stop this, that that skeleton... Is me."


	7. A Heated Discussion

**A/N:** Thanks to my Beta TimexHasxGone, and thanks to those who reviewed!

* * *

_You always admire what you really don't understand - Blaise Pascal_

* * *

Azura stood up from her throne so fast that the male guard who stood right next to it jumped backwards in shock, falling off the raised platform and landing on the floor with a very loud 'smack'. This resulted in Lauraine jolting in slight shock, causing her to fall backwards onto Martin. Holding her steady, Martin took a step backwards, forgetting that he too was at the edge of the steps to Azura's throne. Losing his footing, Martin slipped backwards, tumbling down the steps and coming to a steady stop at the base. Azura momentarily broke from her moment of annoyance to roll her eyes at the two men, glaring at the two of them.

"Men, such idiots who cannot hold themselves properly. To be so ungraceful as to fall off a platform." Muttering quietly, Azura sent another glare towards Lauraine, who had giggled quite loudly behind her hand at the two men who lay in crumpled heaps on the floor below.

"Sorry, my lady... It's just, well look at them."

"Indeed. Diverting the subject. What do you mean, that skeleton is you? You are standing here before me, so how are you that disgusting undead creature?" At her words, Lauraine immediately raised an eyebrow, staring up at Azura.

"Been talking to Meridia lately? Anyway, like I said, that skeleton is me. Well, part of me. That skeleton is what _should _have been me."

"Child, you have confused me."

"Okay, well... When I killed myself all those years ago in the Imperial Palace, my spirit never actually left until my body was placed in the palace under croft. Even then, my skeleton disappeared from the tomb the moment I left the gates to Aetherius, after I confronted Martin for the last time, and left for Moonshadow. Something happened the day my body disappeared; I could not be dead, without a body to prove it. Some strange form of black magic occurred, forging a skeleton with the exact same bone marrow, and alignment of my current body."

"So, you're telling me that there are currently two of you walking around? That your body was recreated with Black magic?"

"Technically speaking, yes. Only one of me is _dead. _Now this is the hard part to explain. When I remembered everything, all the emotions I was going through somehow activated the skeleton. Basically, that skeleton is my other half. The half of me that should have been, technically. That also means that any damage I, or anyone else, tries to inflict upon it will injure me mentally. I'll feel the pain, but there won't actually _be _any injuries. It's all very hard to explain." Lauraine looked up to see Azura sitting back on her throne with a look of utmost horror upon her face, Martin stood next to her in confusion, and the male guard stood aimlessly whilst scratching his neck.

"My child, this is not the first of black magic forging to have ever happened..." Azura stood up slowly this time, casting a purpose glance towards Martin and her guard, before she started to slowly mutter daedric spells. A large, white archway opened up in the middle of the castles throne room, the stones surrounding the archway swirling in many different colours and shapes. Minutes passed, before the archway turned a soft blue colour, the slightly disorientated and certainly annoyed form of Meridia walking out stiffly.

"Why call upon me so early, Azura? What is so important, that it cannot wait until later?" The daedra looked irksome, most certainly annoyed at being called upon at the early hour.

"It is an emergency, of a sort. You are an expert on the undead you hate so much, am I right?"

"Get to the point... And yes, yes I am."

"It seems we have a little case of black magic forgery. We need a way to reverse it, to get rid of the skeleton." Azura and Lauraine both looked towards Meridia, Azura in anticipation, and Lauraine in hope. Both of their hopes plummeted at the cold cackle that fell from Meridia's lips, a look of utter delight splashed across the daedra's face.

"Oh my, there _is _no known way to reverse it. You will have to keep running, with the knowledge that wherever you go, that skeleton will follow you until it catches you. And when it does, then death will surely follow. Who is the forgery made of?" Meridia's eyes scanned everyone in the room, resting upon Lauraine. Lauraine locked eyes with the daedra prince, the silhouette of fear reflected in her dark blue orbs.

"My lady, I am the one who has been forged."

"Oh... Well this certainly puts a damper on things, does it not?" Meridia allowed a flicker of emotion to cross her features, before swiftly turning to Azura. "I assume you called me here to find a way to help her?"

"You assume correctly."

"Well, as I said before, there is no _known _way to reverse it. That skeleton can get to you at all times, because that skeleton is _you._ But, in favour of you, Azura, I will attempt to find a way to reverse this despicable black magic. For now, you need to keep on running." Meridia let a rare smile tug at the corners of her mouth, before leaving the room in her signature exit: Walking backwards through the portal whilst giving a sadistic bow.

Azura opened a separate portal after the first one closed, grabbing a fistful of Lauraine and Martins cloaks in each hand. Roughly shoving them both through said portal, Azura cast a small glare towards Martin, her eyes burning fiercely.

"Keep her safe you moronic mortal."

* * *

The tension, thick and burning between the two men, refused to lessen as both stared straight ahead to the metal gate. One man's jaw was clenched tightly in frustration and annoyance; the other wore an evil grin to indicate he enjoyed the awkwardness. His red eyes occasionally flickered towards Martin Septim, his mind thinking of new ways to annoy the former emperor.

"So, how long have you known Lauraine for?" Lucien entwined his fingers together as he asked this, turning in his chair to face Martin.

"Much longer than you have" Martin's reply was snappy, his irritation and intimidation hitting its peak. The fact that Lauraine had decided to send the items from Hircines world to the home of a Dark Brotherhood member irked Martin, his sense of jealously clouding his mind and causing him to give unneeded hatred towards the vampire.

"Ooh, who twisted your knickers?" Lucien smirked as his reply caused Martin to grind his back teeth loudly, a feeling of satisfaction waving over him. Martin kept his eyes locked on the metal gate, cursing Lauraine for taking so long to find a godforsaken staff, cloak and sword.

"No one, thanks for asking... I suggest you shut up _right _now, or-"  
"Or what? Going to try and attack me with your pathetic excuse for a weapon?" Lucien indicated Martins damaged iron dagger, before pointing to his own enchanted dagger. Martin continued to grit his teeth painfully, his left eye twitching slightly.

"Seriously, you _really _want to shut up."

"I've known Lauraine for many years. I myself initiated her into the Dark Brotherhood. I also allowed her to be welcomed back into the family after... Your many _misunderstandings._" Lucien's smirk grew wider as he pressed Martins mental buttons. Martin immediately whipped around in his seat to glare at Lucien.

"How do you know how many there were? The papers only told everyone about one of them!"

"I also supplied the poison that killed her, of-"Lucien – who had moved to stand up during his latest sentence – found himself pushed up against the wall by his neck. His smirk turned evil as he unsheathed his dagger, pushing it under Martin's neck.

"You allowed her to kill herself?!" Martin's voice was rising, his anger making him oblivious to the dagger at his throat.

"Don't be stupid! That poison was to be used on you and the chambermaid. Of course, there were complications. Your little wench decided she wanted to get herself involved with big bad weapons, and allowed herself to torture Lauraine. It was the lower murderers of the Dark Brotherhood who killed your little Bosmer wench when she was walking the streets. The guards didn't seem to have a problem. Of course, I wouldn't have needed to supply the poison to Lauraine in the first place, had you managed to stay loyal to the only woman who loved you when you were nothing but a farmer's son. Of course, I myself have had an interest in the striking Breton for a very long time." Lucien grinned wickedly, before dragging his dagger lightly across Martins throat; not enough to make him bleed, but enough to sting painfully.

"You stay away from her, she's mine!" Martin tried to keep his voice from shaking, but Lucien's confession of his involvement in the death of both Lauraine and Arvwen unnerved him. Lucien's cold, murderous laugh did nothing to soothe his thoughts.

"Oh, young Septim, I think you'll find she's anything but. You really think that Lauraine will condemn herself to the same misery and mistake she made in her former life? Be serious! You shattered her trust more times than necessary, the only reason she stayed was because she was bound to you by marriage! Lauraine came running back to the brotherhood because of you, suicidal at _best. _I know Lauraine as much as you do, and we both know that she's not going back to you if she's in her right state of mind." Lucien's eyes bored into Martins, the cold, vicious red orbs intimidating and striking fear into Martin.

"You don't even deny it. You know the truth, yet you try your hardest to make yourself believe otherwise. You may as well face the truth." By now, Martin had Lucien pressed up right against the wall, his teeth gritting and grinding together very painfully. The cogs in his mind turned, the empty, hollow feeling temporarily halting his senses. And when that happened, Martin Septim realized something he had wished was not true: Lucien Lachance was _right. _

"And you have as much a chance as-"Martin was cut off by a small yelp of surprise behind them, accompanied by the clanking sound of heavy items being dropped to the floor. Martin released Lucien immediately, pulling him off the wall and pushing him to his left. Both spun around on their heels.

"Um... I understand that you two have built up sexual frustrations, and that you need a way to relive them, but could you perhaps not do that _whilst _I am in the area? I know you may sometimes feel like you _have _to go for it with each other, but please, not whilst I'm around!" Lauraine eyed them both, a caught look of laughter and annoyance playing across her features. Lucien decided to push more of Martin's buttons, doing something he would have never done in public.

"I'm _so_ sorry Lauraine... But you see, I just _couldn't _resist him. I mean, _look at those legs."_ With that, Lucien promptly ran his hand down the left side of Martins body, deliberately pinching his upper thigh. A mischievous smirk played at his lips, widening when Martin promptly jumped four steps backwards. Lauraine snorted, kneeling down to pick up the things he had dropped.

"Well, I should probably leave you two to it, except that we have a daedra prince on the verge of attacking us in a few days. Lucien, I took the liberty of _rearranging _the equipment in your 'wet' room. It seems that I accidentally sent them there, instead of the separate quarters."  
"Wet room?" Martin raised an eyebrow towards Lucien, who simply stared at him like he was an idiot.

"Torture room, murder room, general guts and killing room. Blood room to you." Lucien moved past Lauraine to release the lock on the trapdoor leading out from the fort. Pulling down the rope ladders with a long stick, he moved sideways to allow Martin and Lauraine past.

"Thankyou Lucien, I owe you _big-time_."

* * *

The cloak, the sword and the staff. Lauraine currently held only one of these items. She held the staff firmly in both her hands, repeatedly muttering the incantations under her breath. Certain that the field just outside Anvil was the destined location for the portal which would allow the werewolves to enter Cyrodiil, Lauraine stood with many soldiers from the rebuilt Kvatch and Anvil, with a few soldiers from the Imperial Legion just outside the south western end of the border to Hammerfell.

Martin was in possession of the blade, which – the use for it only recently figured out – had the ability to kill the creatures from the Hunting Grounds in quicker swipes than a normal sword. Martin was in a small field outside Morrowind, with a selection of soldiers from the Imperial City and Cheydinhal respectively.

As for the cloak, a legion captain was in possession of that particular item just outside the border to Elsweyr with soldiers from Leyawiin and Bravil; Lauraine had correctly guessed that it was to be used to protect the wearer from destruction magic, useful for when it came to the portal with only the element soldiers from the Hunting grounds. As for the final portal that would open at the border to Skyrim, there were few soldiers from Chorrol, Bruma and the Imperial city. Hopefully, as the soldiers who would emerge from there would not be that dangerous except for their use of the sword, not a lot of mages were needed there.

Snapping her head up at the low rumbling sound of a portal being opened, Lauraine cast her eyes to a portal she hadn't seen in years. The archway taking in a form of many twisted vines wrapping around each other forming the thick, maze way of an arch. Many glowing eyes peeked through small gaps in these vines, inanimate yet still threatening.

In the moment that the inside of the arch filled out with a dark green light, a thousand werewolves emerged from within, teeth bared and ready to attack.


	8. Shocking News On Both Parts

****

A/N:

Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter! I'm sorry if this chapter seems a bit crap, I had no clue which parts I should detail out (Battle scenes and such) so... I hope you guys like it. This is the very last chapter I'll be posting, as it's finished xD. However, I'm writing up another story which you may find interesting, and it will include Lauraine from the alternative sister story **If I never left, **yet won't be focused on her. If you've already read that, then you'll know how different she'll be in my next story.

* * *

_In victory, one does not understand the horror of war. It is only in the cold chill of defeat that it is brought home to you – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle_

* * *

Lauraine dodged the sharp, swift paw that was swiped towards her face, the wind from the force hitting her face. Gritting her teeth, Lauraine swung the staff forward, three werewolves charging forwards to rip the attacking one to shreds. Her plan was, to be completely honest, fucked. The staff had only been able to control half of the attacking wolves, resulting in the second half attacking murderously on instinct. While this proved to be quite disappointing, and extremely dangerous, more of the attacking werewolves had fallen than the controlled wolves. Only a few of the soldiers had fallen, their remains however, devoured by a few of the werewolves to regain their strength.

Unsheathing her blade, Lauraine placed the staff across her back, throwing her katana through the air towards an advancing werewolf. Running the blade up through the abdomen, she quickly pulled it out; ramming it behind her into a crouching wolfs brain. The resulting howls were loud, causing Lauraine to lose focus momentarily.

A loud growl hit Lauraine's ears from the left, catching her attention.

Seeing it before she had a chance to move, the werewolf launched itself through the air towards Lauraine from ten feet away. Turning slightly to face it, it hit Lauraine head on, sending her crashing to the ground. Heart stopping with fear, Lauraine stared into the blood lusted eyes of the wolf, realizing that it wouldn't be letting her go any time soon. Blade resting too far out of reach and the staff trapped beneath her back and the grassy bank, Lauraine closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the wolf to sink its teeth into her throat.

* * *

Martin trudged through the thick pools of blood that soaked the grass, the mass of limbs and bodies surrounding him causing bile to rise to the back of his throat. Swallowing it, he stared at the few survivors, all of them wounded or shaken. Hircines broken sword lay clattered on the ground, the point still embedded in one of the enemy mages throat.

"Sir, they're all dead."

"Funnily enough, Eric, I'm aware of that. Take a look around, does the tangles of enemy and allied limbs not spell that out for you?" Snapping furiously at the small Bosmer solider, Martin rolled his eyes as the man scarpered towards the makeshift tent that had only just been put up. Following close behind, he collapsed down onto a bedroll, observing the men inside.

"Only seven of us survived? We went out there with fifty!"

"Well sir, there was over two thousands of those magical beings. I for one think we're lucky to even be alive."

"Not helping Guerevyn, not helping." Shaking his head, Martin glared towards the ruined portal visible through the tents fabric door. The archway, magnificent and captivating when it had appeared, was now cracked and broken, one half of the thick stone caving in.

The soldiers in the tents were now cursing loudly, the wounds on their body ceasing to heal. Martin took sympathy on the youngest, which couldn't have been older than seventeen. Bending down next to the sobbing boy, Martin used the same spell he had once used on Lauraine to heal his many wounds, wincing with the boy as the bits of glass, wood and silver dug their way out of his back.

"That's going to leave some scarring. I sympathise for you. So young, yet having to witness and take part in the deaths of thousands. Get some rest." Patting him on the shoulder, Martin quickly left the tent, his stomach sick with worry for those in the battles which included werewolves. Many of the survivors would no doubt contract Sanies Lupinus, and should they fail to cure it... Martin shuddered at the possibilities.

Martin was just about to turn on his heel to re enter the tent to help the remaining soldiers, before he felt the familiar sensation of falling through glass as he was pulled through the floor, landing on the marble stairs to Azura's throne. Head dazed, Martin stared up at the daedric prince, starting to get extremely annoyed for being dragged there without warning. The moment he locked eyes with Azura, a horrible screaming sound entered his ears, his eyes clouding over.

The haze clearing, Martin's eyes refocused to witness the Battle on the edge of Anvil, before searching and landing on the object of his searching eyes.  
The battle was raging around them, but Lauraine lay on the floor trapped beneath a werewolf and the floor. Her eyes were tightly clamped shut, the wolf on top of her leaning down to rip out her throat. Heart stopping with shock and horror, Martin was forced to watch as the wolf sank its teeth into Lauraines neck, biting hard before it pulled back sharply, blood spattering the grass and covering Lauraine's face and the werewolves fur. Some force was forbidding him to close his eyes, forbidding him to turn away as the werewolf continued to devour the rest of Lauraine. Eyes starting to leak with unwelcome tears, Martins eyes started to cloud, before focusing his sight back into the castle of Azura, staring into the dark depths of Azura's eyes.

"I _told _you to take care of her!" Azura's voice was unusually calm for someone who had lost an adopted daughter. Eyes brimming with tears, Martin shook with a heavy sob, looking up at her.

"Why did you make me watch that? I can't believe it... Dead."

"Don't be ridiculous! You think I would allow that to happen to Lauraine? No. I saw that event happening a few hours before it did. Realizing you were too busy somewhere else, I have sent another mortal after her. Besides, even if she was dead, she'd be standing next to me scolding you for your ignorance!" Azura glared towards Martin, as if she was blaming him for the death that hadn't even happened yet.

"Please don't tell me you sent that _ridiculous _Lachance-"

"No, instead I have sent someone who will be pleasantly surprised to see Lauraine. Two people, actually. Observe." Azura beckoned to the mahogany table at the left of her throne, allowing Martin to gaze upon the battlefield. Lauraine lay in the same position as before, only this time, Martin knew it was real.

* * *

Eyes clamping together even more tightly, Lauraine waited for the sharp teeth that would undoubtedly sink into her throat in a few seconds. Therefore, she was extremely confused when the swishing sound of two swords moving through the air caught her ears, followed by the dead heavy weight of the werewolf collapsing on top of her. A middle aged woman, face obscured by her hair, pushed the body off hers, whilst a younger, pretty woman the same age as Lauraine pulled her up from the floor.

Glancing into the younger woman's face made Lauraine even more confused. Although slightly taller than herself, Lauraine assumed she was most certainly looking into a mirror. Only difference was, the girls eyes were a brighter blue, the jaw line slightly less defined than her own, and a bluish tint to her skin signified she was part Dunmer. Lauraine turned swiftly to pick up her staff, halting more werewolves to help the men who were battling. The young woman held out Lauraine's ebony Katana, a wide smile plastered on her face.

"You were right mother, she does look like me." The young girl turned to the woman who accompanied her, who was busy fighting off an approaching werewolf.

"I told you! Just don't call her grandmother. She may not like that." The woman shouted towards her daughter between every clash of her sword. Lauraine immediately pointed the staff towards the attacking wolf, halting its tracks. Pleased at the wolfs abrupt stop, the older woman turned to face Lauraine, her sparkling bright blue eyes locking with Lauraines own. Instantly Lauraine recognized her. Hair perhaps only a tone darker than it was years ago, her face was still young, still proudly showing high cheekbones, a button nose and a defined jaw.

"Well mother, not the circumstances I imagined meeting you again in, but nevertheless, I'm still glad to see you. Bloody hell, Corbyn was right, this is weird." Karyssa stared up at her mother, feeling extremely strange that her mother was the same age as her daughter.

"Karyssa?! What the bloody hell are you doing here? And who is this?!" Lauraine beckoned towards the young woman next to her, before promptly turning around to run her sword through the neck of an approaching werewolf.

"You're more shocked than I am. Mother, this woman who happens to look a lot like you, is your granddaughter. Hell, I'd say you were sisters though." Karyssa frowned, jumping slightly as her daughter's sword flung through the air behind her, hitting another wolf square in between the eyes.

"_This _is Lauraine-Alessia?! Akatosh's mother, I suppose she's worth the pain you went through. Where's her brother?" Lauraine watched as the young girl moved forwards to pull her sword from the wolfs head, slightly shocked at the appearence.

"How do you know about her brother? How do you even know her _name?!"_ Karyssa locked eyes with her mother, a look of confusion etched across her face.

"I had no choice but to watch you giving birth. It was either that, or watch Martin in the next room moping about how 'I wasn't there to see it'. It seems twins run in the family. Mind you, I think that when you smacked your head off the wooden part of the bed, I'm amazed you stayed conscious." Lauraine smirked as her daughter scowled, before they both turned their backs to each other to fight respective wolves.

* * *

Martin stared in shock at the wooden table, the scene before him both awing him and scaring him. Lauraine had had a close call with that werewolf, the arrival of his daughter and granddaughter being purely lucky. But then again, Azura _had _sent them, so it should have been obvious that Lauraine would survive the battle. Lauraine was currently muttering the spell for the portal to Moonshadow to open up, the battle having ended hours ago. Lauraine had spent the next few hours after the battle conversing with her daughter, and learning about her granddaughter. He watched as she gave them both a quick hug, before running into the portal and emerging inside the castle.

Unfortunately for Martin, Lauraine was still running when she exited the portal which opened directly behind him. Her weight combined with her speed forbid her from slowing down in time, sending her flying into Martin and down the steps to Azura's throne. Tumbling down, they stopped a few yards away from the first step, in the middle of the castle's throne room. Lauraine was trapped between him and the floor, her cheeks a flushing bright pink.

"Um... Well this is awkward." Smiling awkwardly up at Martin, she disappeared from underneath with a small poof, leaving behind a few grains of sand. Reappearing next to Azura a millisecond later, she smirked down at Martin as his face hit the floor from momentarily suspending in the air. Lauraine whispered something to Azura, which was replied with a solemn look and a shake of the head.

"Master Septim, if you could please come up here for a moment, we have something we need to discuss with you." Azura's voice filled the throne room, echoing in Martins ears as he clambered up the stairs.

"Yes my lady?" Martin sent his question towards Azura, but it was Lauraine who answered.

"There is one more battle that must be fought. One that must be fought by you, and you alone." Her face was grim as she told him this, fear flashing in her dark blue eyes. Shifting slightly, something gold flickered underneath her cloak for a moment, before she snapped him back to reality with a glare.

"I'm sorry... _What?! _Who do I need to battle? Why only me!?"

"Calm down Martin. Listen. To end this madness, you must fight against Hircine. For how long, I do not know. But you must do this."

"Why must I?"

"She cannot fight with you. At least, not for a while. When the portal opens once more, you must step through and face the Daedra Prince." A tone in Azura's voice swayed Martins mind, his brain suddenly having a strange instinct to fight.

"I cannot go through until I find a suitable disguise. Should Hircine recognize me, I put Azura and her allied princes in danger. Do not worry Martin; just injure him enough until I can help you." Lauraine shifted again, an amulet slipping through the folds of her cloak. Martin stared at the familiar gold amulet, remembering the time he gave her it. Lauraine's eyes stared towards a wound on Martin's leg, abdomen and arm, her body shifting once more.

"Oh for goodness sake! Stop fidgeting and do what you must Lauraine. Meridia knows you've been waiting for a chance to do that." Loudly, and quite angrily, Azura glared towards Lauraine, before sighing in defeat and ordering one of her Moonservants to bring Meridia from the Library. Lauraine stood up to her full height, reaching up and giving Martin a slow, tense kiss. Before he could wrap his arms around her however, Lauraine pulled back, smirking deviously at the look of shock upon Martin's face. Her cheeks flaring up in a blush, she turned quickly on her heel and disappeared behind the white double doors after the Moonservant. When she disappeared, Martin looked down at his wounds, yelping in shock at the faint scars that took their place.

"How did she-?" Martin was cut off by the loud rumble that signified the appearence of another portal, his stomach dropping at the familiarity of the blood spattered arches.

"Well Master Septim, step through. I have no wishes for a werewolf to enter the castle just to retrieve you."

* * *

Azura glared towards Hircine, her back teeth gritting painfully. She noted that, barring Hircine, she was in the exact same room, with the exact same people that were present sixty years previously. Only this time, there was no sobbing little girl trapped with Nocturnal.

"You mean to tell me... That you were never even going to _take over _Tamriel? You're telling me that it was for - and I quote-'the thrill of the hunt?!'" Azura's voice was rising in pitch, her left eye twitching much like Lauraine's usually did. Hircine observed the people present in the room. Peryite stood in the corner, shooting glares towards Namira who stood on the opposite side of the room. Meridia stood by Azura, her arms folded and her hair tied back. Mephala stood by Molag Bal, her mind distant as she too remembered the scene sixty years prior to this day. Sheogorath stood stroking his beard, watching the spat between Azura and Hircine.

"Yes, I am. I have no need for a realm such as Tamriel. Although I must admit, the boy and his hooded friend were _amazing _fighters. I am sure I would have lost, even without the arrival of his hooded friend. "Hircine smirked lightly, before disappearing into thin air, leaving behind only a few blue grains of sand. Meridia rolled her eyes, casting them over towards Nocturnal when she spoke.

"Azura, am I right in thinking you are remembering the events the last time we were in this room?"

"Yes Nocturnal, you are. Why?"

"Oh I'm just wondering. May I ask how the child is? I suppose she is no longer a child anymore. Is she turning old and frail like all mortals?" Nocturnal smirked, her eyes spelling mischief. However, this look was banished at the cool cackle that left Meridia and Azura's lips.

"Oh Nocturnal, you could not be any more wrong. The child is anything but. We are all Daedric Princes, are we not? The girl, however, is a daedric _princess." _Meridia glanced around at the others as she said this, her eyes flashing with deviousness.

"_What?!" _Mephala, Molag Bal, Peryite, Namira and Nocturnal all snapped their eyes to Meridia, shock and horror written across their face. Sheogorath and Azura seemed unfazed.

"Meridia is right. We are Daedric Princes, purely because there are no higher commander than us seventeen, nor can there ever _be_ any higher. The child however, is only one rank below us. She rules no specific land, yet can come and go as she pleases. After Nocturnal brought her to this meeting room, the magical energy radiating from us fused with the girl, giving her power and immortality. So, to answer your question Nocturnal, no. The child is frozen at the age of twenty-one, with beauty beyond which _you_ could ever wish for. Paler than Namira, but darker than me and Meridia.

'I must thank you, however, as I have experienced the certain pros of having another place their utmosts trust in me. I must say, it is an overwhelming feeling when one knows that another being depends entirely upon them, when you know that they trust you enough not to dispose of them in the clicking of fingers. The girl is, so to speak, Daedric. She even has the ability to go from one place to the other in seconds, leaving only our signature sands behind. Same powers to open up portal's to the realm of which she lives, and no blemish stay upon her body for longer than a week." Azura held back a restrained laugh as Nocturnal's face fell, utter shock and disbelief filling her features. Disappearing from the room in the same fashion as Hircine, Nocturnal left behind only a few black grains of sand.

"Of course. _We, _unknowingly and perhaps, unwillingly, turned that girl into one of us. I'm willing to bet all the cheese I own that Nocturnal is slowly regretting the actions she made all those years ago. The only Deadric ruler with a normal name." Sheogorath spoke up, pulling at the end of his beard. "Oh, Azura, could you perhaps tell Miss Bellamont that Haskil wishes to see her again. He simply cannot file all those clowns into the right parts of Mania. Or was it clouds?" Disappearing, he too left behind golden sand in his wake.

Azura opened up her own portal, not fancying the idea of momentarily turning into sand. Beckoning Meridia towards her, Azura moved into the portal, allowing it to remain open until Meridia stepped through.

* * *

"Martin! You can't even sneak, let alone follow someone! Why the hell didn't you stay behind?" Whispering harshly, Lauraine glared at Martin, him being the cause of them being forced to hide behind the low wall just outside the door to the Temple district. Hovering dangerously on the concrete ledge, should they move backwards even an inch, one of them would be sent flying into the pool of water behind them.

"I can't help it! I've never had a day's training in my li-"

"Shhh! He'll hear us! Then the entire thing will be blown, and I don't fancy walking around with a homicidal double chasing after me!" Slapping him upside the head, Lauraine cast her eyes up over the small wall. Her eyes tried to seek out the Dunmer Scholar, yet he was nowhere to be seen. Quite suddenly, the black hair and red eyes of the man they were pursuing looked up over the wall at them, his eyebrows raised. Stepping backwards in shock, Martin almost fell over the ledge and into the pool of water, had he not flung his arms out to grab the closest thing to stop him from doing just that.

That 'thing' happened to be Lauraines arm. Giving a small squeak, Lauraine was pushed backwards into the water as Martin steadied himself, her eyes stinging from the dirt in the water. Twisting whilst under the surface, Lauraine's mind hazed at the growing throb of pain in her temple. Unable to tell which way was up, she started to thrash violently, until a strong hand pulled her upright, out of the water. Wiping her eyes, Lauraine glared over towards Martin, her left eye twitching when he awkwardly pulled a lily pad from her hair.

"Um, you've got a little-"

"I know! Mother of Akatosh, why in the –" Cut off from her rant by a raised hand from the Dunmer, Lauraine noticed the arm of his shirt was soaked, indicating that he pulled her from the water.

"Why were you following me?" The Dunmer asked, a tone of suspicion lacing his voice. He stared uneasily towards Martin, who was observing Lauraine in her sopping wet state.

"Ignore him; I'm the one who needs to talk to you." Lauraine snapped the Dunmers attention to herself, ignoring Martin's curious stares herself.

"Why do you seek me, my lady?"

"You are in possession of a book I will find useful. It is a black magic tome, to do with certain forgery. You know the book of which I speak?"

"Ah yes, a black and red tome, with the symbol of Necromancy and The Black Hand seal in the corners of the backing. However, I am not willing to give you this book." He smirked, his eyes flashing humorously.

"Why not?"

"I would prefer to just tell you the solution. Therefore I am not sacrificing my book. Pay me fifty Septims, and I will willingly give you the answer." The Dunmer held his hand out expectantly, his smirk widening at the small money bag Lauraine gave him.

"Thank you, my lady. Surely you know how much money I need for my studies. The answer to your case is simple. You kill the skeleton. It will mentally hurt you, the pain will be unbearable. But _you _must kill it. If anyone else does it for you, you will surely die." Titling his hat as a small sign of respect, the Dunmer walked away.

"I can't believe you just gave him fifty septims for two sentences of information." Martin tutted, shook his head, and started to help Lauraine out from the water.

"I didn't, I gave him fake money."

"Smart. You know, your hair is much longer when it's straight and wet. I thought it was long when it was curled, but this? Wow-"He was cut off by the slapping of a wet piece of fabric upside his head. Wincing as a white hot pain slashed across his senses, he cursed rather loudly, causing few women to stare. Lauraine was still stood next to him, swinging around the wet hair tie dangerously.

* * *

Martin winced, clamping his hands over his ears at the screams that Lauraine was letting lose. He had arrived with her to dispose of the skeleton, and it had gone well until Lauraine had accidentally missed the place where the heart would be, instead cutting off the rest of the Skeletons head. It had died, that much was certain, but Lauraine was screaming a thousand murders as if she was surviving a beheading. Rolling around in his arms, she was clutching at her neck, Martin not even beginning to understand the pain she was going through. Unable to stand watching like this, Martin pressed his thumb into the space just under her ear, pressing hard upon the pressure point until her screaming ceased, her body going limp and her mind drifting to unconsciousness.

When she awoke an hour later, she was most certainly groggy, and momentarily loopy. Giggling uncontrollably, she was twirling locks of Martins hair and commenting on its colour, before a look of utmost horror etched across her face, her hands retracting and her giggling ceasing. Her mouth opened to a pleasantly surprised 'O' when she noticed the skeleton laying very much dead on the floor, noting how her skin seemed to have a slight pinkish hue to it, much like Azura's did. Turning on her heel to face Martin, she stared up at him in gratitude, her face darkening in a blush.

"Thank you Martin, I don't know how I would have gotten through all this without you. Despite the many 'incidents'."  
"Well, what do we do now?"  
"What do _you _do now, is what you mean. I'm going back to Moonshadow, I don't belong here anymore." Lauraine looked up sadly at him, pressing her hand to the wall behind her to open up the portal.

"What? Why can't you stay? I practically just found you!"

"I know... Sorry, but I can't stay here. I don't need to explain my reasons." Lauraine held his cheek in her hand, attempting to tell him that she wanted to stay, but could not. Whether he understood, she did not know, as at that moment, she heard the portal opening and stepped backwards through it, smiling sadly as the white light filled through the room before disappearing altogether.

* * *

Lauraine pulled the silver pitcher from the water, aimlessly watching as a few droplets dripped off the bottom and caused a ripple effect in the water. Quickly turning away before she got too mesmerised by the beauty of the Gardens, she quickly made her way into the castle with the pitcher, careful not to spill it down her dress. Her dress, Much like Azura's in colour and style, had lose straps that hung loosely on her shoulders, was white, and flowed down to the floor. Accompanying it with a sash that draped over her arms, Lauraine had her hair in its usual style, curled and hanging loosely down her shoulders and back.

Azura did not look up when Lauraine entered the room, only speaking when Lauraine had set the pitcher down next to the mahogany table. Lauraine herself glanced into the table, smiling when she saw the two men speaking to each other, the younger's body solidifying, slowly getting younger. Around the same time, a ghostly figure started to appear in the middle of the castle throne room, his face taking on the expression of surprise and shock. After sixty years of being separated, Lauraine could only smile down at Martin Septim, chuckling lightly at Azura's next sentence.

"Welcome, daedric _princess._"


End file.
